


all night (i'll riot with you)

by keijisosamu (combustible)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (yes its all written in lowercase because im an arrogant motherfucker), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Car racing AU, Hand Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kind of exhibitionism, M/M, NOT A CHEATING FANFIC!!!, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top!Kuroo, bottom!Oikawa, but theyre not together so theres no cheating involved, hints of iwaoi and kuroken bc theyre my main otps but really nothing big, just tell me if i need to tag more stuff, kuroo has feelings for kenma, pwp really, there's light choking but not really choking, very self-indulgent smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25163014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combustible/pseuds/keijisosamu
Summary: he doesn't even have to go out of his car. theirthinghas been going on for long enough for them to call it aritual. each time he sees the white mitsubishi arrive in the red and blue spotlights, angelic in a way its driver is most certainly not, his heart skips a beat.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	all night (i'll riot with you)

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe my first contribution to the haikyuu fandom is going to be a car racing!au smutty one shot but i needed to get this out of my system.

_adrenaline keeps on rushing in_

_love the simulation we're dreaming in_

_don’t you agree?_

the night is dark and the air heavy around them. neon lights are blinding those without tinted windows, reds and blues merging on the asphalt. it's raining today and the wheels are sending droplets of water everywhere.

there aren't a lot of people watching. maybe it's because it's the beginning of school year, maybe it's because of the rain, kuroo doesn't know and he definitely doesn't care. he's not here for the public. never has been. he doesn't even know them, only interested in those who are actually competing.

he arrives just a few minutes before midnight, just a few minutes before the race starts. the speakers are pulsing, music breaking through his windows, as his black bmw appears in the smoke created by the smoke flares, surrounded by other too expensive cars. he recognizes most of them, but it's the familiar mitsubishi that catches his eyes immediately, glowing in the purity of its white coat.

he rotates the handwheel, electricity sparking through his veins as stops his car on the starting line, waiting for the fatal signal. he notices the window of the mitsubishi going down, showing the driver's defiant smirk. kuroo presses the button to lower his window. that's when their eyes meet, a silent promise between them as they nod before letting their windows up again.

he's been on the illegal tokyo racing scene for ages now. when oikawa had arrived, a few months ago, with his wide victorious grin and his stupid immaculate mitsubishi kuroo had laughed at him. his bmw was the painful polar opposite of oikawa's white car, with his black titanium coat and red headlights, he stood, impressive in the sneaky way his opponents couldn't see him coming from behind.

the few seconds before they reach midnight are always silent, blood racing towards his head, his heart pulsing in his ears, fingers drumming on the handwheel. the music is loud around him, speakers hammering with the sound of drums and basses. but as the clock reaches midnight and motors ignite, everything goes silent. he breathes out when the giant red numbers reach 00:00:00 and his foot touches the ground.

his car is one of the best on the market, that's probably why tsukishima had so much fun destroying and rebuilding everything, with just enough modifications to make the race interesting, more dangerous as he exceed whatever speed limit there is on this road.

his mind is focused on the car next to his, stupid white machine, so fast it's almost flying. it's raining and they're the only ones who seem to race like it wasn't the case. even hinata's orange mercedes is far behind them.

so, it's just oikawa and him in the middle of the empty streets, always one instant away from slipping on a fatal pool of deadly water.

it's exhilarating.

maybe it's the knowledge that they might both die in a firework of leather and metal, maybe it's the knowledge that they might bring the other with them as they fall to their end.

his blood is pulsing through his body, going south as he thinks about _after_ , about what he'll get if he wins, or if he doesn't. he thinks about the small smile on oikawa's stupid lips and about how those same arrogant lips look around his cock. he's already half hard, both from the silent promise of oikawa's small nod, and from the adrenaline caused by his most basic survival instincts.

the buildings are standing tall around them, but they disappear in a blur as they run through the city, engines burning under the hood. the lights around them are blinding now, street yellows lights catching up with the almost aseptic whites of the parking neon.

sometimes, he doesn't really know anymore, if they're racing each other or chasing each other, trying to use _that_ small moment of weakness to push them off the road, in one last spark of mortality.

the end is near and there's no one behind them. it's just the two of them who are racing towards victory, two kings riding side by side, ready to push the other just a bit further, just a bit too far. it's not uncommon for racers to die, killed against a wall or fallen down a ravine. but he trusts oikawa.

it's the sick control the mitsubishi driver has over his own wheels, like he's connected to his damn car, that makes kuroo's mind go insane. he's not so bad himself, after years and years of almost dying in the streets under kenma's careful commands. it's been a while since he's raced with kenma guiding him. maybe he should text him about it, ask him to join him again, for old time's sake.

just thinking about kenma makes his heart race a bit faster, his mind definitely off the road now as the finish line appears in the corner of his eyes. he turns the handwheel and prays for his calculations to be completely correct or he'll end up racing through a wall.

the crash doesn't come, and he almost screams when his car turns just a few instants before the white mitsubishi. there's no way oikawa can make up for the distance that's growing between them as the wheels of the bmw touch the white line on the floor, flags going up as the black automobile crosses the final border between winners and competitors. he stops his car and watches the white mitsubishi arrive behind him. if this is what being a god feels like, kuroo would give his soul to the devil any day.

◊

he doesn't even have to go out of his car. their _thing_ has been going on for long enough for them to call it a _ritual_. each time he sees the white mitsubishi arrive in the red and blue spotlights, angelic in a way its driver is most certainly not, his heart skips a beat. it's surreal, how much the sight of this stupid car can make his head spin and his cock hard.

he's sitting in front of his handwheel, head thrown back against his seat when he hears the three usual knocks on his window. he unlocks the door and the familiar frame of oikawa tooru appears in the door frame. he looks good today, drenched in sweat and rain from going from his car to kuroo's.

"you got me at that last turn." oikawa says as he enters the car, not even saying hello before he sits on the black leather seat, lust written all over his aura. it’s everywhere around him and on him, his smile, his glistening skin, the deep undertone of his voice.

"you almost made me crash into that wall." kuroo’s voice is neutral, not vindictive in any way, only stating the facts. he’s not accusing, they know their _hobby_ -some would say coping mechanisms- is dangerous.

"i'll do whatever it takes to win, you know this." pride dancing on his lips as he says this.

"and yet, you still lose."

their making out sessions have never been _tender_ , they're bruising and hard and rough, violent in the way their bodies crash against each other, like daichi’s car against that tree a few months ago. and today's going to be just the same, two bodies merging, still high on adrenaline.

"i'm going to fucking beat you next time." oikawa grits as he throws himself at kuroo, not even minding the large gap between the seats. his lips crash against the taller man's in a bruising kiss that's all but soft. "get out of the damn car." he spits, out of breath, eyes shining in the moonlight as their teeth clash out last time.

"it's raining."

"i don't care."

almost dying will certainly put you in a stupid mindset where fucking under the moonlight and in the pouring rain doesn't sound like a bad idea anymore. so kuroo just groans and opens the door to smoothly slide outside of his car, landing on his feet. but oikawa's faster than him and as soon as the door closes, he's already pushed back against his car, the other man's body definitely pressing in all the right places, one knee between his legs and his hand already on his throat, pressing against the exposed skin.

oikawa looks angelic in the moonlight, so fucking attractive with his sharp jawline that can cut through any part of kuroo’s body and his big brown eyes burning with rage and wrath. sometimes kuroo doesn't know if oikawa is going to hit him or fuck him until either of them happens. today is no different. he pins him against the wet titanium, their clothes already soaked and he presses his slender bony fingers around his throat, thumb pushing against his carotid and kuroo gasps, his hips already bucking against oikawa's knee. he’s been half hard for too long now and he just wants _release._

"i will fucking win next time and i will bend you over the hood of my car and fuck you for everyone to see."

kuroo simply nods because that mere image already goes straight to his now aching cock. he can already imagine the cold metal under his bare skin as oikawa fills him up, hands on both sides of his waist, leaving bruises on his pale skin. he can imagine, clear as day, rutting against the hood of that _stupid goddamn_ immaculate mitsubishi. and he hates that he's looking forward to it.

"maybe i'll let you win next time then." kuroo's a teaser, always has been and always will be. and he gets under oikawa’s skin with ease.

oikawa groans and turns his _oh so_ willing body over to push him against the door of the bmw, his stomach hitting the window with no delicacy. and he can feel oikawa’s own hard erection against his back, making him even more pliant under oikawa's tongue. his hair are completely drenched, water running on his body and he should definitely be cold by now but the only thought that comes to his mind is how good oikawa's lips are against his throat, how good his teeth feel as he bites mark on his shoulders.

they're in the middle of the parking lot, not so far away from the starting line, and they both know they'd better hurry up or cars will start appearing nearby. but oikawa seems to take his sweet time, pushing kuroo’s shirt up to reveal his nipples, hard from the cold -and let's face it, arousal.

"hurry up, idiot."

"what? you don't want them to see?" oikawa teases and he runs his tongue against the wet skin of kuroo's back, slowly getting lower and lower until he's on his knees, hands unbuckling his pants from behind. kuroo can't stop thinking about the ripped jeans oikawa's wearing and the fact that his knees are probably bare on the concrete, bleeding from the friction against the asphalt as he comes closer to kuroo.

"hinata would stop and watch," oikawa continues as he pulls at his pants and boxers, revealing kuroo's straining erection, exposing it to the cold air, to the rain. "kageyama would too." he starts pumping his cock, slow and steady, hand cold and wet from the rain. it's not the best hand job he's given but kuroo's too worked up to care and when oikawa's thumb rubs against the tip of his cock, he lets out a moan that breaks the heavy silence around them. his head falls on the top of his car and he’s glad he can bite his arm to muffle his embarrassingly loud moans.

"what if kenma drives by and sees you like this uh? no, it’s better if sees you next time, bent over the hood of _my_ mitsubishi."

"and what would _iwa-chan_ think about it, uh?" kuroo tries but the movement of oikawa's hand on his cock makes it hard for him to focus. he's rutting like a cat in heat in the other man's hand, the tip of his cock sometimes touching the wet tinted window of the car. it’s going to leave a messy stain but he couldn’t care less at that moment. the sudden picture of kenma watching him like this only making it _harder_ for him to not come right on the spot.

“shut the fuck up,” oikawa groans from under him.

and when he feels something wet and warm touch him _there_ , he completely loses it, pathetic whimpers escaping his lips as his hands reach behind his back to grab oikawa's dripping hair, pulling hard as he moans biting down his own forearm. _forgive me father_ , he thinks briefly as oikawa's sinful tongue enters him, wet and soft between his cheeks and kuroo straight up yells at the feeling and he’s pretty sure people who came to watch the race could hear him from the gathering.

he's not gentle when he pushes against the other man's mouth, his hands keeping him in place and showing him the _right_ pace, fast and hard. he rocks his hips, greedy for more and oikawa doesn't seem to complain because he's moaning too against his skin, his hand already in his pants as he works himself up. when kuroo turns his head and sees the other man's hand disappear in his own pants, he knows he's not going to last long, his vision already whitening.

but oikawa seems to think otherwise because he pushes his commanding hands away and gets up, turning kuroo around to face him with a completely serious face.

"you're going to fuck me. you're going to fuck me against your car, and you will not stop until i come, i don't care how many people see us."

“bossy.”

“you love it.”

if the loss of the warm heat against his cock almost made him slap oikawa in the face, the thought is long gone when he pushes the other man against the hood of his bmw. he stops for a second to watch him, arrogant and prideful in his white jersey, his wet hair dark from the rain. his coat almost looks like the wings of a fallen angel, pupils blown wide, back arched up against the black of his car. he looks at him, defiance in his eyes and kuroo pulls at his pants with no delicacy whatsoever and throws shoes socks and boxers away, admiring the man beneath him, with his spread legs and arrogant smirk.

"hurry up, i'm prepared."

kuroo gasps but gets on his knees nonetheless, his own jeans still at his ankles and he can feel the burn of the macadam against his exposed skin. but he doesn't care. he doesn't care because his face is already between oikawa's parted legs, biting the tender skin of his thighs and licking his cock with gluttony. he’s a professional by now, alternating between licking and sucking, pulling a moan from oikawa’s throat. his hands trace the curves of his ass until they get _there_ , between his cheeks, finger looming over his hole, where he can feel something hard under his index finger.

"it was really hard to focus with this thing shoved up in my ass."

kuroo growls and stands up in a rush, blood completely leaving his brain to engorge his aching cock. he’s not thinking straight anymore and takes the plug between his fingers, pulling at it, not getting it out completely before he shoves it back, earning a whimper from the man beneath him.

"you were hard during the whole race." kuroo pulls at the plug for good now, not wasting any more time, already at his limits, and he decides in a moment of lucidity to not throw it on the floor but rather on the top of the car for oikawa to get it back later.

"did you come during the race, uh? did you roll your hips to get more friction? did you touch yourself?" kuroo teases with a small grin.

"that would be dangerous."

"did you?"

"may-be." oikawa tries as kuroo slips two fingers in his ass, lubed with the small pack of free lotion he always carries around in his pocket.

"you filthy bastard."

he licks his lips and watch as his fingers are easily swallowed. the plug was a _brilliant_ idea. his eyes land once again on the sinful vision in front of him, forcing himself to breathe through his nose to not come right here right then. his hands roam over oikawa’s hips and finally grab the exposed flesh to get him closer. when their skin finally touch, he can’t stop a small gasp, and for a moment, he lets his body fall on top of oikawa’s smaller frame, their chests touching, cold and wet against each other. and would the situation be any other, he would have minded _very much_. but the thing is, having oikawa’s very bare cock against his own makes him lose any sanity he has left after a life-threatening race.

it’s basic instinct to want to fuck after you almost die, it’s a need that comes with the earth-shattering rush of adrenaline he felt during the last turn.

he stays here for a second, pumping both of their cocks with his right hand as his other hand roams over oikawa’s exposed torso, scratching the milky skin, chasing the raindrops that are accumulating there. there’s something divine, a godly pride he feels, at the sight of someone like _oikawa_ pinned under him, willing and completely at his mercy. he leaves bruises everywhere, especially in places people will see, his throat, his collarbones, his shoulders, he bites, and he scratches as he pumps them both almost to completion. it only takes a few minutes for oikawa to become a whimpering mess, far away from the arrogant bastard he can be behind the wheel.

there’s something in the bastard’s smile that makes kuroo’s skin burn, and if it’s burning from the cold and the rain that’s pouring from the sky, he can also feel his epiderma igniting from the inside, too small of a cage for the sheer want he feels for the man under him. and if he had thought oikawa was a believer in kuroo worship, maybe after all, it’s kuroo who’s the mortal kneeling in front of a cursed divinity. because oikawa’s temptation, greed, envy, he’s all the sins combined and so much more, and kuroo can’t seem to have enough of it.

but when he finally removes his hand from their now very hard members, he quickly pulls out a condom from his jacket and puts it on, because who knows what shady business oikawa’s into. but he doesn’t waste any more time and lines his dick with the other man’s waiting hole, obeying the sacramental command of oikawa’s hand on his hip. he lets himself be swallowed as he pushes inside and at this point, his mind goes blank, too far gone to think about anything else that pushing and pushing before pulling back to push again.

“ngh”

if there was some kind of worship in their slow movements a few instants ago, it’s all gone as soon as he’s fully seated inside oikawa. the other racer even goes as far as pushing back against him, rolling his hips to find _that_ place and kuroo’s no one to deny someone as powerful as oikawa. he’s only a willing disciple at the mercy of holy orders. he pushes, hard and fast, in the tight heat of oikawa’s body, groaning against the other man’s mouth, whispering his name as he moves. it only gets messier and messier as kuroo finally gets to touch him where he wants it the most, reaching _this place_.

“yes, here, there- do this _again_ ,” oikawa orders, and kuroo can only execute, pliant devotee to oikawa’s filthy grace.

his hands on oikawa’s hips tighten and he just straight up uses his force to force him harder on his dick.

“keep going- just like- this.” he keeps saying, and kuroo groans, fucking into the smaller body harder and harder, nailing his prostate as many times as he can.

“stop ordering me around, i’m the one who won,” kuroo finally says as he puts his hands under oikawa’s aching back and just flips his body like it’s nothing, getting him on his stomach, dick hard against the hood of the black bmw, leaving wet strains against the raindrops. “so you’re going to shut up now tooru” he whispers against the smaller man’s ear as he pushes back in in one smooth motion, grinning at the docile body under him.

he starts moving again, slow and hard, ripping broken moans out of oikawa’s throat trying to muffle them on his arm, but kuroo’s ready to defy his own deity to hear its cries, so he grips the other’s arms and puts them behind him back, using them for leverage as he snaps his hips, sharp and precise in his movements. this time oikawa can’t even hide his face as he throws his head back, his lips parted under the moonlight. the red and blue neon lights giving his pale skin a glow that looks surreal, unholy in its most depraved way. his eyes are closed and the moans that escape his lips go straight to kuroo’s dick.

he’s completely pliant under his violent pushes, victim of his own hubris, embodiment of sloth in the way he lets kuroo move for him. but kuroo’s only a man and seeing the expression of oikawa’s face does _things_ to his being that he can’t even describe with words, so he just pulls him closer to him, arching his back in an almost inhuman way. he’s ramming into the smaller body, face hidden in the other’s wet hair when they hear the sound of racing cars approaching.

“you wanted them to see? let them see.” kuroo growls and he starts slamming his hips against oikawa’s body, his fingers wrapping around his cock as everything becomes messier and blurrier, the mere thought of one of their opponent seeing them enough to make his mind go crazy. “maybe sugawara will see us, he’d recognize my car. or maybe someone will stop. like ushijima.”

“fuck!”

“you’re fucked up, tooru,” kuroo laughs, “you shouldn’t fantasize about ushijima like this when i’m right there.”

“shut up,” but oikawa’s out of breath, enjoying the few seconds of break before kuroo resumes his unforgiving pace.

“i know you won’t come thinking about him, or about _me._ ” kuroo says, loud enough for his voice to resonate in the empty parking lot. the headlights of the cars are making the scene less eerie and more straight up filthy, more real as he can now see the curves of oikawa’s ass in the white light of the other car’s headlights. “everyone can see us here, they probably all know who i’m fucking, but you don’t care because it’s not the right person who’s watching, am i right?”

“shut up.”

“what would _iwa-chan_ say if he saw you like this, uh?” kuroo asks, his hips snapping and he knows he’s near the end, his palm against oikawa’s dick getting faster and tighter. “do you think he’ll notice? when you flinch every time you sit tomorrow, uh?”

“you son of a- oh my- kuroo-,” it’s the thumb against the tip of his dick that does the trick and he spills over the black titanium of the hood of the bmw, his mouth open in ecstasy as he rides his orgasm, a silent scream escaping his lips, hips rutting inside kuroo’s fist.

his walls tighten around kuroo and he only pushes inside the compliant body once or twice before he’s tripping over the edge, _kenma_ ’s name on his lips.

they both stay like this for a few minutes before oikawa laughs bitterly, “you’re as fucked up as me, man.”

“shut up, we’re done here so just- shut up.”

“yeah.”

kuroo slides out of oikawa’s completely drenched body and puts his pants up, grimacing at the terrible feeling of wet clothes against his skin.

“next time, i’m fucking _you_.” oikawa says with a devilish smile.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yootasuke).


End file.
